


I'm Sorry, But I Fell in Love Tonight

by modernpatroclus



Series: In Any Reality [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Smut, because halsey, music fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernpatroclus/pseuds/modernpatroclus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you pick up the lastest business magazine, chances are inside you will find an article about Star City’s proclaimed “power couple,” CEO of Palmer Technologies’ Ray Palmer and his vice president Felicity Smoak. They met five years ago, when Ray plucked Felicity from obscurity as a recent college grad to come work for him. They’ve been together ever since.<br/>But even though they sound perfect on paper, Ray just isn't him. He's nothing like the man she secretly rendezvous with.</p><p>Or, Oliver Queen is the "other man" in Felicity Smoak's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry, But I Fell in Love Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Because Olicity have always turned gender roles on their heads, because Halsey is amazing, and because I’ve wanted to figure out a way to relate [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=686SmDtBOu8) to Olicity for forever now. I was listening to it, and it suddenly turned into a 3am monster. (Because who needs sleep, right? Certainly not people in the midst of finals… *innocent whistling*)  
> We're bringing Ray back to his awful early s3 writing, because reasons.  
> I’ve never written smut before, and I wasn’t intending to now, but… whoops??? I hope it’s not too horrible/cringey! It was actually really fun to write.  
> I hope you enjoy.

Felicity’s hand shakes as she holds the plastic keycard up to the hotel door. _This is wrong,_ she thinks, the phrase repeating like a mantra in her head.

But it’s not enough to stop her. She does this every time, battling her head and her heart knowing exactly which one will win. Her heart always does, and though it makes her feel like the worst girlfriend in the world, she can’t help but wonder how wrong it truly is when it feels so much more right.

Taking a deep breath, she slides the card and pushes the heavy door open. The room is dark, the air filled with that cold, distant smell hotel rooms always seem to have. It makes this seem even more scandalous, almost evil. But the truth is, she’s been half out of her relationship for months now. And she knows she’s not the only one.

Perhaps he’s doing the same thing, every time he claims an out-of-town business trip merely a cover-up for a weeklong rendezvous with some other gorgeous, successful woman or other. The twisted part is that it wouldn’t even bother her if he was, showing just how much her four-year relationship has deteriorated.

Because Ray is charming at the best of times, and emotionally manipulative at the worst.

Shaking her head to rid it of all thoughts of her other life – her _real_ life, that somehow feels the more faked one – Felicity drops her bag onto the floor next to the small dresser. She never unpacks, preferring to just rummage through her bag every time she needs something. She’s afraid of what the small but huge action would mean for her, for them. It would feel permanent, and that’s something she can’t afford. Not with both of them being so closely watched by the public eye.

He’s not here yet, running late as always. She grins at the thought, having been through this so many times with him by now to only be shocked when he actually _does_ show up before her. It’s just as well, though, that they aren’t seen checking in at the same time. It’s risky enough for them to be seen checking into the same hotels time after time. The tabloids don’t need a match to light the fire.

She decides to call him, let him know she’s landed and checked in. This way, he won’t need to call later and . . . interrupt.

Felicity flips on a light and walks to the bed and sits on the edge, playing with the overly bright white comforter as she waits.

He picks up on the fourth ring, as always, like clockwork.

“Hey, babe. How was the flight? Full of annoying people?”

“How you manage to survive your chaotic social life is beyond me, Ray,” Felicity says as a greeting.

“I still don’t see why you don’t use the company jet when you fly,” he says, and she can practically see the confused distaste on his face. She manages to keep from rolling her eyes, because although he wouldn’t be able to see it, her lack of brain-to-mouth filter will have her voicing her thoughts if she isn’t careful.

“I may be pretty successful now, but I haven’t changed that much from the girl who grew up in a two-bedroom apartment with a cocktail waitress for a mother,” Felicity says. And it’s true: She got where she is by busting her ass, from her first “office” in a dark server room in the basement at PT only four years ago. “I have no need to fly alone like some kind of snobby rich politician.”

“I’d take offense, but you said ‘politician’ this time, so I’ll let it go,” he teases.

Despite herself, Felicity lets out a small huff of air reminiscent to a laugh. It’s nowhere near the kind of laughs _he_ gets out of her, but Ray doesn’t need to know that. She’ll let his ego have this one.

“Good, because I have to go now. My first meeting is in an hour and I have to get ready,” she lies when she sees the shadow under the door.

Ray lets out a dramatic sigh and says, “Ah, well, I’d hate to keep your adoring audience of investors waiting.”

“I think you mean _your_ investors,” she corrects, ignoring the twinge of guilt that pulls at her. It only ever comes when he’s like this – dorky, sweet; not the arrogant and manipulative man she’s starting to really see. “Anyway,” Felicity sighs, pushing away her complicated thoughts. “I’ll call you later.”

“Alright, love you,” he says, already sounding distracted.

“I love you, too,” she says, but he’s already hung up.

She forgets her annoyance when the door clicks open, her mood instantly brightening. She knows he was waiting for her to get off the phone, giving her privacy to deal with Ray. He respects her more than he dislikes him, which is saying a lot, considering how much she’s told him about her toxic relationship.

“Hey,” Oliver says, giving her one of his rare, soft smiles.

“Hey,” she replies, grinning as she stands to meet him halfway. He drops his bag next to hers and grabs her hands in his large ones. They share a short but sweet kiss before she leans up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his torso in a much needed embrace. He instantly responds, wrapping his strong arms around her.

Felicity did not expect Oliver Queen: A self-proclaimed “reformed” playboy-turned businessman, who turned out to be very much reformed. After a tragic accident claimed his father’s life, the then-22 year old dramatically changed his ways, finishing school and then taking over his family’s company as the CEO.

Oliver is everything the media doesn’t show: kind, intelligent, passionate, and self-sacrificing.

And Felicity’s “perfect” relationship is much more toxic than the tabloids will have people believe.

When they met, something sparked between them. And although it goes against all of her relationship principles, Felicity started something with him. Try as she might, she just doesn’t feel the same with Ray.

As Oliver’s arms close around her, rather than feeling trapped like she does with Ray, Felicity feels safe, important, _loved._ And the thought should scare her – none of her serious relationships with men (including her father) have ever succeeded after reaching the L-stage.

But with Oliver, it just feels natural, like it’s always been true. They’ve been doing this dance for almost a year now, and though neither of them have spoken the words, she knows they’re on the same page.

And she’s pretty sure he’s holding back from saying it out of respect for her – not her relationship, but her feelings. He lets her set the pace, always has.

That’s something else completely different from Ray: Her ‘real life’ boyfriend started their acquaintanceship without her consent. He’d bought out the small chain tech company she’d worked for at the time, thereby forcing her to work for him after she’d initially refused. How they got to where they were now, in a relationship, seemed almost impossible. But then she remembers the state of them, and suddenly it’s more believable.

Oliver walks them backward, both of them still wrapped around each other, until the backs of her legs hit the bed. She lays back and he hovers over her, holding himself up by his forearms. She moves her arms from his torso to wrap loosely around his neck, smiling into the kiss they share.

When Felicity pulls away, Oliver moves to sit beside her before pulling gently on her arm to get her to lay back with him as he lays down.

She quirks an eyebrow and stays upright, leaning back on her forearms and twisting to look at his pouting face. “You’re still in your suit,” she points out, giving him an appraising once-over.

“I don’t feel like getting up to take it off,” he says simply, as if that’s the end of it, and Felicity laughs.

It’s not, though, because she’s still in her not-so-comfy dress, too, and she doesn’t want any clothes between them right now, regardless of sexual activity.

Felicity stands up and yanks on his arm, and although he could easily resist, of course he stands for her. She turns her back to him and gestures to the zipper of her dress, and he easily complies. She breathes a sigh of relief when it falls to the floor in a pool around her feet, and she shivers when she feels Oliver’s calloused, warm hand on her back.

He steps closer to her, eradicating any possibility of rational thought when he brushes her hair back with his other hand. He leans down, his lips grazing her bare shoulder, trailing ever so slowly up towards her ear, where he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Felicity smiles and turns in his arms, smoothing her hands over his suit-clad shoulders before running them down his arms. She looks up into his eyes and replies, “I’ve missed you, too. Which is why you need to lose the suit ASAP so we can make up lose time,” she teases, the mischievous look in her eyes making his darken with anticipation.

* * *

Oliver sighs contentedly, nuzzling his face into the crook between Felicity’s neck and shoulder. She lets out an involuntary giggle that, with anyone else, she’d be embarrassed of.

“Your scruff tickles,” she says. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his short hair, scratching his scalp lightly, delighting in the shiver he gives in response.

“You weren’t complaining about it a few minutes ago,” he quips back cheekily. She whacks his bare shoulder, scoffing and feeling the faint blush on her cheeks.

“Oliver!” she chastises, but he just lifts his head up and grins innocently at her. And the asshole almost has her believing it, because he’s so damn charismatic. Instead, she rolls her eyes and smirks playfully.

It fades quickly, though, when she feels his mouth on her again, the stubble leaving her skin tingling where it trails down her body. Oliver goes almost painfully slowly as he nears the aching spot between her legs, his fingers lightly following his mouth down her body.

She moans and arches up against him, feeling her arousal reignite from their ‘activities’ hours earlier, before they’d fallen asleep.

The sky is a faint, pale purple of early morning, just barely peeking through the drawn curtains.

Felicity’s hands shoot up from where she was clutching the sheets to grab his hair as he attaches his mouth to her center.

“Oh,” she gasps when his tongue flicks out, teasingly, lightly, her body still tender from earlier. “ _Oh!”_ she exclaims when his tongue finally enters her, finally relieving some of the pressure he was slowly building in her body.

“Mmm,” Oliver moans, his voice muffled against her, and the sensation leaves her shuddering. “Felicity,” he mumbles.

“Oliver,” she replies, but it comes out more as a whimper. And again, there’s no room for embarrassment with him. In the next second, he’s sucking her clit into his mouth and adding two fingers inside of her, and she is purely reaction now. “Ah, Oliver, oh my god,” she keens, fisting his hair tighter, until her knuckles turn white.

He chuckles in response while adding a third finger, and she lets out a sob from the combined sensations.

“Fuck, Oliver!” He stiffens and groans, sounding absolutely _wrecked_. She really only cusses when they’re having sex, and she knows how much it turns him on. (Her lack of a filter isn’t always bad.) It spurs him on, thrusting his fingers faster. She rides his hand with her hips, chasing her release. “Oh god, Oliver, don’t stop don’t stop,” she moans, the pressure impossibly building, the coil in her abdomen impossibly tightening.

Oliver pulls away just slightly, enough to let out a, “Come for me, Felicity. Let go,” the plea interrupted by his panting breaths. He reattaches his mouth almost instantly, his tongue playing with her clit before sucking it into his mouth, the pressure reaching its tipping-point.

“ _Fuck,_ Oliver! I’m – I’m coming,” she cries out, barely getting the words out. She rides it out against his fingers, relishing in every little sensation.

Finally, she relaxes against the sheets, her flushed chest heaving as she catches her breath. Oliver sits up and lays down next to her, propped on his arm and facing her, watching her with those intense blue eyes.

“Being a guy must suck,” she muses when she’s come back down from her high.

He snorts, a quiet “What?” coming out.

“Y’know, refractory period and all that,” she explains, lifting an eyebrow and flicking her eyes to the sheets in emphasis.

“God, you’re a geek,” he teases, but he’s smiling fondly at her.

She sighs dramatically, breathing out a, “Yeah, I know. But what’re you gonna do?”

Felicity rolls onto her stomach, pillowing her arms before resting her head on them and watching him.

The way he’s looking at her, with so much adoration and plain _love . . ._ It makes her heart feel like it’s going to burst. She feels that guilt again, but not for Ray this time.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out before she can stop it.

His eyebrows crinkle adorably with his confusion. “For what?” And she knows he’d normally make a joke right now, but he can tell she’s serious, so he just waits for her to elaborate.

“For making you be with me like this, like you’re some dirty secret I’m ashamed of,” she explains, looking down at his hand where it rests on the sheets. Suddenly she can’t look at him, can’t meet those honest blue eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers. She watches his hand lift from the sheets and cup her chin gently, prompting but not forcing her to look at him. “I don’t mind. The only thing about this situation that bothers me is that you’re still with that asshole Palmer. But even when – if – you break up with him, I don’t want you to feel like we need to go public. If you want to keep us a secret, I’ll gladly do it. I just want to be with you,” he whispers, the conviction strong, and it feels like a promise.

Tears burn in her eyes, and she focuses at a point on the wall just past his head, and wills them not to fall. It’s not from the guilt now, though; this man keeps proving how amazing he is, time and time again. Even when she pushes him away, even when she makes him hide them in the shadows, he cares only for her happiness and her well-being. For not the first time, she wonders what she did to deserve him.

All of the negative feelings subside when she looks back into his eyes, finding only clarity in the clear blue depths.

And suddenly, she can’t hold it in anymore. That pressure returns, for an entirely different reason, and it creates a buzzing in her head that won’t subside until she tells him.

“I love you.” As soon as she says it, both sets of blue eyes widen – hers in shock and mortification, his in wonder mixed with disbelief.

She makes to cover her mouth with her hands, but Oliver is two steps ahead, stopping her with a searing kiss.

“Don’t take it back for my sake,” he says, and she can feel and hear his smile. And it’s contagious, this grown man’s happiness, and she finds herself grinning back despite herself.

“And for the record, I love you too. But I think that’s pretty obvious.”

She laughs, the sound breathless and relieved – because finally, that damn pressure is gone – and she drops her head to his shoulder, shoving it lightly. He grabs her hands in his and squeezing them.

* * *

Later that morning, as the night makes way for morning and sun starts to rise, the sky turning from purple to pink to orange to blue, they lay there in content silence, dozing off and on.

When they’re both awake, Oliver speaks softly, his voice a caressing whisper in the still peaceful morning atmosphere. He recites poem after poem to her in Russian, and Felicity has no clue what he’s saying. But it’s one mystery she lets go unsolved, content to just listen to his voice and feel the gentle rumble of his chest from where her head rests against his heart, tracing idle patterns on his skin with her finger.

The one word Felicity does understand amidst the unfamiliar language is ‘love.’ She feels her cheeks burn every time she catches it. And each time, it strengthens her resolve: She is going to end things with Ray.

Oliver is the only man in her life who has proven himself worthy to stay, and she’s done hiding him away in the shadows. She’s done settling for a toxic, dispassionate relationship with a man who doesn’t even know what he wants. Until today, neither did she; but now that she’s figured it out, Felicity is determined to keep it in her sights.

Felicity has always been terrified of coming to rely on anyone, much less a man, for her happiness. She’s always worked herself harder to make sure she didn’t let it happen.

But somewhere along the way, a handsome man with dark hair and a Superman-complex clouded her judgment, making her think she was safe when she was really wandering deeper into dark woods.

Now she’s finally found herself in a labyrinth of a man worthy of getting lost in.

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be more angsty than this, but about halfway through the fluff started to creep in. I blame season four domesticity, which has ruined me. Plus, I think we’re all gonna need some fluff after the finale tonight.  
> Constructive criticism, thoughts, etc. is all appreciated!  
> Update: I haven't forgotten about a part two! I am working on it, I promise. It's just taking me some time because a) my muse wants to write other things, and b) this first part was written with sudden inspiration at like 3am, and I don't want to do that again. But it is coming! I just want it to come out good.


End file.
